


Numb

by mulderitsclaire



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, MSR
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 17:45:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19430968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mulderitsclaire/pseuds/mulderitsclaire
Summary: Her hands were the strongest medicine, her voice the sweetest syrup, the smell of her supple skin the most tranquilizing scent of something sweet and healing and something intoxicating and all-encompassing.





	Numb

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OnlyTheInevitable](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyTheInevitable/gifts).



> Dedicated to my best friend Christie, and my favorite author Nicole. Both of you inspire me daily. 
> 
> Music playlist for this story:
> 
> “Red Wine + White Couch” by Danielle Bradberry  
> “Love is a Wild Thing” by Kacey Musgraves  
> “New Years Day” by Taylor Swift

Numb by Claire Featherston

As the time ticked by it felt meaningless, she felt numb inside. Her hair was plastered to her cheek against her mascara-congealed tear tracks. She had tossed her heels across the room, one was upside down on the dingy wooden desk, and the other had landed against the peeling paint of a floor lamp’s base. Scully was curled up atop the bed’s comforter snuggling against a pillow she had a death grip on, as her body was rattled by shaky breaths. 

He didn’t have to be such a selfish jerk. The thought whirled through her busy mind as she kicked against the lumpy mattress. The old window unit air conditioner sputtered in the corner, and she huffed aloud. Could it get any worse? She could hear him pacing across the carpet in the room next to hers, he was mumbling to himself, occasionally gruffling with something, she could hear him unzipping his suitcase and tossing the contents around the room. She heard what sounded like his rain jacket hit the adjoining door as the rustling of polyester slid down to the floor. Then the thump of, what she figured was, a boot against the wall. 

He was grumbling to himself, and she heard him plop onto the mattress, and then he was sobbing, loudly. Gasping for air, and it startled her, she sat up immediately, and walked over to the door to press her ear against the wood. She turned the knob without thinking, and to her surprise it was unlocked. Scully was still hiccuping over her own retreating sobs, as he was clinging to the brown and orange motel blanket, cloth grasped in each hand. Mulder was shaking, his face buried against the scratchy fabric. Scully padded over the bed, and he felt the mattress dip, as she sat down beside him. 

He didn’t look, he was still so infuriated with himself, and her, that he didn’t want to see her face. As upset as he was, he knew that his heart would melt at the sight of her own watery eyes, he had heard her plain and clearly when she’d started bawling next door. It had made him feel like shit, so he punished himself by messing up his luggage, and tossing the contents around the room, walking around in circles, his hands raking through his sweaty hair, as he cursed to himself for hurting her like he always did. He knew that Scully was too good for him. Too intelligent and kind to be his partner. She had patience and grace, and listened to his theories, that she didn’t believe an ounce of, without interrupting or discrediting him. Sure, she would argue her case, and sometimes there was an eyeroll, but at the end up of the day, she had his back. She typed up the case reports with him, and told the truth, what they’d seen. 

So he was lying face first on this crusty motel bedspread, crying his eyes out like a baby because he’d hurt her. He’d broken the only person he cared about in the whole world, so why was she here. What could she possibly have to say to him? Was this it, was she finally resigning from their partnership, leaving him and returning to medicine? He shoved down the thoughts that she owed it to him to stay, because in all actuality, she didn’t owe him a single thing. He owed her her dignity, sanity, a good reputation, her health even. All the things that he had helped strip away from her over the last several years. 

This beautiful, remarkable, nurturing woman had stood by his side for years on end, defending him to bigwigs in the government, and pursuing their truth together. Although he felt like he had forced it into becoming hers, despite the dozens of times that she had reassured him of the absurdity of his insecurities about her allegiance and purpose that had driven her to stand by him, through thick and thin. Scully hadn’t moved since she’d sat down, and Mulder felt sick to his stomach, from the anticipation, and the intensity of his gulping for air. Snot was in his throat and on his face, and he felt like even more of a fool, like a helpless baby who Scully always had to attend to. He’d made the strongest person in the world cry, and here he was feeling sorry for himself because she might leave him. Mulder startled when one of her hands landed on his back, and she began rubbing circles in the center, applying a light pressure. It made his skin tingle and lit his heart on fire. 

Why the hell was she trying to comfort him when he’d just treated her so badly? Then she shifted closer to him, and wrapped one of her arms around his waist, and squeezed him to her. Her affectionate touches made him feel even worse. Why did he always need to be saved? What a wuss. She ran her other hand up into his hair, and pet it lovingly. Starting from the nape of his neck, and sliding her fingers through to the crown, and swooping them back down repeatedly. Mulder’s body shuddered, and he gulped, trying to cease his weeping. Scully leaned over him and kissed the top of his head, continuing to rake her fingers across his scalp. 

Scully laid down beside him, and picked up his arm that was heavy with grief, tucking her self beneath it, and pushing her legs between his. He knew she wasn’t backing down, so he turned his face up, in all of its red and snotty glory, and embraced her fully, entangling their limbs. Scully kissed his tear soaked cheeks, and continued to stroke his back. She hugged him tightly, as they buried their faces against each others neck and she whispered into his ear, “Mulder, it’s okay. We’ll be okay. I promise.” He shivered, and she ran her hands up and down his arms, “It’s okay. It really is. I wouldn’t say that it was if it wasn’t.” Her own voice was hoarse from crying, but she was comforting him, nonetheless. Maybe he hadn’t destroyed them after all, would she really forgive him? Mulder shook his head that he understood, even though he really didn’t, and she could feel the tension in him, so she sighed and squeezed her arms around his middle. 

His mind was melting, along with his skin and bones, against her. She had that effect on him, mind numbing, inevitable, loss of composure at her touch. Her hands were the strongest medicine, her voice the sweetest syrup, the smell of her supple skin the most tranquilizing scent of something sweet and healing and something intoxicating and all-encompassing. Mulder whimpered, “I’m so sorry. I should never have talked to you like that. I lost my temper. I would never hurt you on purpose, you’re everything to me.” Scully shook her head against his cheek, and breathed in his sweat and cologne, “I know, Mulder. I know you didn’t mean it. We both knew what to say to get under each other’s skin. I love you, you’re my closest friend. You mean everything to me, too.” 

Mulder felt the tickle of nerves dance through his stomach, love. She’d said love. He clutched to her blouse, “Scully,” he practically whined her name, “ you’re my whole world. I love you so damn much.” Scully’s heart clenched excitedly. He loves me too. Does he really? Could he possibly love me in the same way that I love him? She couldn’t help but smile, and Mulder felt her face muscles twitch against the fabric of his button up, so he leaned back and cupped her face in his hands. Her eyes were red and swollen, and rimmed with black smudges that trailed down her cheeks, and onto her chin. Mulder sighed, “Oh, Scully. I’m so sorry I made you cry,” he slid his hands into her hair and pressed a firm kiss onto her sticky forehead.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think, my darlings :)   
> You can find me over on Instagram, Tumblr, and Twitter @mulderitsclaire


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